The Rake to Redeem Her

Will wasn’t about to assure the maid he’d send madame back—to Paris or her ‘Philippe’—until he’d finished with her. And resolved what had already flared between them.

Instead, he pulled out a coin. ‘Thank you, Clara. I appreciate—’

‘No need for that,’ the maid interrupted, waving the money away. ‘Use it to keep her safe. You will watch out for her, won’t you? I know if someone wished her ill, they could have moved against her any time this last year. But still … I worry. She’s such a gentle soul, too innocent for this world, perhaps.’

Will remembered the woman in the garden, quietly picking spent blooms from her flowers while a stranger decided whether or not to wring her neck. She was more resigned than gentle or innocent, he thought. As if life had treated her so harshly, she simply accepted evil and injustice, feeling there was little she could do to protect herself from it.

Since his earliest days on the streets, Will had faced down bullies and fought to right wrongs when he found them. Picturing that calm face bent over the blooms and the brutal hand St Arnaud had raised against it, Will felt a surge of protectiveness he didn’t want to feel.

No point getting all worked up over her little tragedy; if she’d ended up abused, she’d played her role with full knowledge of the possible consequences, he reminded himself. Unlike Max, who’d been lured in unawares and betrayed by his own nobility.

And of course the maid thought her a heroine. If she could take in Max, who was nobody’s fool, it would have been child’s play for her to win over a simple, barely educated girl who depended on her for employment.

Suppressing the last of his sympathy towards Madame Lefevre, he nodded a dismissal to her maid. ‘I’ll meet you at the inn in two days.’

Clara nodded. ‘The old man’s disguise—you’re sure you can carry it off?’

‘Can she carry off hers?’

‘She can do whatever she must. She already has. Good-night, sir.’ With an answering nod, the girl walked into the gathering night.

Will turned back towards the inn where he planned to procure dinner, mulling over what he’d learned from Clara.

According to the maid, madame had been brought, without other money or resources, to Vienna and forced to do St Arnaud’s bidding. She cared little about wealth or high position. Her sole ambition was to return to Paris … and ‘Philippe’.

She can do whatever she must, the maid had said. Apparently, betraying Max Ransleigh had been one of those things. Eluding Will and cheating Max of the vindication due him might be another.

She was surely counting on trying to escape him, if not on the road, then once they arrived in Paris. He’d need to remain vigilant to make sure she did not.

From the maid’s reactions, it seemed even she feared the watchers might not be pleased to have her mistress leave Vienna. Madame Lefevre might well have other enemies in addition to the angry cousin of the man she’d ruined.

Her masculine disguise, which he’d first accepted almost as a jest, now looked like a prudent precaution.

For a moment, he envisioned madame’s slender body encased in breeches that outlined her legs, curved over thigh and calf, displayed the turn of an ankle. His mouth watered and his body hardened.

But he couldn’t allow lustful thoughts to distract him—yet. His sole focus now must be on getting her safely to Paris. Because until they reached London, he meant to ensure no one else harmed her.

Chapter Six

Late in the afternoon two days later, garbed in the clothing of an old gentleman, wearing spectacles so thick she could hardly see and leaning heavily on a cane, Elodie let Clara help her into the taproom of a modest inn on the western outskirts of Vienna. As the innkeeper bustled over to welcome them, Will Ransleigh strode in.

‘Uncle Fritz, so glad you could join me! The trip from Linz was not too tiring, I trust?’

In a voice pitched as low as she could make it, Elodie replied, ‘Tolerable, my boy.’

‘Good. Herr Schultz,’ he addressed the innkeeper, ‘bring some refreshment to our room, please. Josephine, let’s help our uncle up.’

With Clara at one arm and Will Ransleigh at the other, Elodie slowly shuffled up the stairs.

Not until she’d entered the sitting room Ransleigh had hired and heard the door shut behind her did she breathe a sigh of relief. The first step of her escape had proceeded without a hitch. Exultation and a rising excitement sent her spirits soaring.

As she sank into a chair and pulled off the distorting spectacles, she looked up to see Will Ransleigh’s expression warm with a smile of genuine approval that gratified her even as her stomach fluttered in response. His expression serious, he was arresting, but with that smile—oh, my! How did any woman resist him?

‘Bravo, madame. I had grave doubts, but I have to admit, you made a wonderfully credible old man.’

‘You made a rather fine old gentleman yourself,’ she said, smiling back at him. ‘I wouldn’t have recognised you if you’d not arrived with Clara. You were a wizard with the blacking as well, going from white-powdered hair to brunette faster than I could don the clothing you provided. Now I see you’ve transformed yourself yet again.’

Though he’d kept his hair darkened with blacking, he’d changed from the modest working-man’s attire he’d worn the day he climbed up her balcony into gentleman’s garb, well cut and of quality material, but not so elegant or fashionable as to attract undue notice.

Still, the close-fitting jacket emphasised the breadth of shoulders and the snug pantaloons displayed muscled thighs. If he’d appeared powerfully, dangerously masculine in his drab clerk’s disguise, the effect was magnified several times over in dress that better revealed his strength and physique.

His potent masculine allure ambushed Elodie anew, intensifying the flutter in her stomach and igniting a heated tremor below. She found herself wondering how it would feel to run her fingers along those muscled arms and thighs, over the taut abdomen … and lower. While her lips explored his jaw and cheekbones, the line of brow over those vivid turquoise eyes …

Realising she was staring, she hastily turned her gaze away.

Not fast enough that he didn’t notice her preoccupation, though. A satisfied gleam in his eye, he said, ‘I hope you approve of the latest transformation.’

‘You’re looking very fine, sir, and don’t you know it,’ Clara interposed tartly. ‘Ah, mistress, didn’t you make a marvellous old gent! I believe we could have met Frau Gruener herself on the stairs without her being the wiser.’

‘It’s just as well we didn’t. I’m no Mrs Siddons,’ Elodie said, arching to stretch out a back cramped from bending over a cane during their long, dawdling transit.

‘What do you know of Mrs Siddons?’ Will asked, giving her a suspicious look.

Cursing her slip, Elodie said, ‘Only that she was much praised by the English during theatrical entertainments at the Congress, who claimed no Viennese actress could compare. With your expertise in disguises, I begin to believe you’ve trod the boards yourself. Is that how you found this moustache?’ Stripping off the length of fuzzy wool, she rubbed her lip. ‘It itched terribly, making me sneeze so hard, I feared it would fall off.’

‘My apologies for the deficiencies in your costume,’ he replied sardonically. ‘I shall try to do better next time.’

‘See that you do,’ she flashed back, relieved to have detoured him from any further probing about her familiarity with the English stage.

‘I don’t wonder your back is tired,’ Clara said. ‘I don’t know this quarter of Vienna and you could hardly see behind those spectacles. The transit seemed to take so long, once or twice I feared we might be lost.’

‘No danger of that; I shadowed you all the way and would have set you straight if you’d strayed,’ Ransleigh said. ‘I also wanted to make sure you were not followed.’

Reassured by his thoroughness, Elodie said, ‘We weren’t, were we?’

‘No. It was a good plan you came up with.’

Elodie felt a flush of warmth at his avowal and chastised herself. She wasn’t a giddy girl, to be gratified by a handsome man’s approval. She needed to remember the purpose for which he’d arranged this escape—that hadn’t been done for her benefit.

Despite that acknowledgment, some of the warmth remained.

A knock sounded at the door and Elodie turned away, averting her now moustache-less face until the servant bringing in the refreshments had deposited the tray and bowed himself back out.

‘Shall we dine?’ Ransleigh invited. ‘The inn is said to set a good table.’

Elodie shook her head wonderingly. ‘Just how do you manage to discover such things?’

He gave her an enigmatic smile. ‘I’m a man of many talents.’